Loves dichotomy

Thoughts beget us a trap door: kiss 

How most seemingly strange it is

the touch, the whispers, the scent

remains long after the warmth left

Perhaps to extenuate the presence

we would have otherwise not missed

but for those searing moment of bliss

Yes, tis true, love birthed…my misery too

Poet of the Light © 2019

2 thoughts on “Loves dichotomy

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